


El Paso

by Gerstein03



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur Morgan's backstory, Arthur meets Dutch and Hosea, Assassins also have no bounderies, Assassins are fucking everywhere, Assassins vs. Templars, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Formation of the Van Der Linde Gang, Gen, Lyle Morgan isn't a complete dickhead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-29 23:16:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20444198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerstein03/pseuds/Gerstein03
Summary: Lyle Morgan has his world come crashing down when a couple of hooded killers tell him his son Arthur is related to a long dead pirate turned Assassin named John Constantine (just kidding it's Edward Kenway). Since this is the story of how Arthur met Dutch and Hosea, this goes predictably poorly for Lyle and Arthur joins up with Dutch and Hosea





	El Paso

**Author's Note:**

> God I love a good old fashion crossover. Hope you enjoy this quick story. Fun fact about me I was born in El Paso. That's part of why I used this town. The next story in this AU is going to be a continuation of The Sheriff of Tumbleweed and will follow Arthur, Sadie, Javier, and Bill on their adventures.

**Lyle sat at a saloon in New Mexico, leaning on the bar and nursing his drink. He waited intently for the engaged couple in the booth to his left to get up and leave. The pair giggled and talked about their wedding and how beautiful it was going to be. ** ** _I’m gonna throw up in my goddamn mouth. _ ** **Lyle thought. The couple stood up and proceeded to walk out the front door. Lyle stopped leaning on the bar and went out the back door. ** ** _Arty’s gonna lure them to the alleyway. Then I’ll threaten ‘em a little, make ‘em turn over their valuables. These guys should have plenty of money._ ** ** Lyle hid behind a wall and pulled his bandana up and listened to his 10-year-old son play the part of an injured kid.**

**“Help!” Arty cried. “Help! I been shot! Someone help!” The couple rushed over in an effort to help him.**

**“There there.” The woman consoled. “Where is the wound?” As Arty stood up, Lyle popped out from behind the wall and pointed his revolver at the couple. He shouted, “Give me your money! Jewelry! Now! I ain’t gonna ask twice!” Lyle handed his other revolver to Arty who aimed it at the couple.**

**“Is that your son?!” The woman demanded. “You’d turn your boy into a killer? How could you do that to your own child?”**

**“I don’t recall askin’ for your advice on raisin’ my kid! Money! NOW!” The man nodded and slowly reached into his jacket, keeping his eye on the outlaw. Suddenly, out of the blue, Arty shot the man. The woman was about to scream when Lyle growled, “Scream and he dies.” He turned to Arty and snapped, “Why the fuck did you shoot him?!” Arty shot his father an angry, spiteful look and walked over to the man, who was groaning in pain, clutching his gut where he was shot. Arty reached into the man’s coat and pulled out a cattleman revolver. He tossed it to his father, who, dumbfounded, said, “Alright that’s a good reason.” He turned to the woman and snarled, “Lady if you wanna be able to get your fiance to a doctor I suggest you turn over whatever valuables you got.” The woman complied and tossed the money and jewelry she and her fiance had on them, which was worth around $2500.**

**“I hope you’re happy you animal.” She growled, sobbing. Lyle sighed and handed her some medicine.**

**“This’ll guarantee he makes it to the doctor.” He stated. “Three blocks that way, he’ll fix this poor sonofabitch up.” The woman nodded and Lyle helped the man to his feet so his fiance cold carry him to the doctor. As Lyle and his son walked away, Lyle handed Arty the revolver and said, “Good work kid. Here take this. I suppose you’ve earned it. Call it a birthday gift But not to worry. We’ll see what we can do for it tomorrow.”**

**“Thanks Pa, I guess.” Arty replied. Unbeknownst to them, as the pair joined the crowd, a hooded man followed close behind.**

**\---**

**Lyle got himself and Arty a room in a hotel before going down into the saloon. He bought himself a beer and started talking to a black haired, freckled woman. Lyle had always been a regular dandy and a charmer, especially when it came to women. He’d met Arty’s mother Beatrice in a bar in El Paso. She’d gotten pregnant and nine months later, little Arthur Morgan popped out. He married her after Arty was born and they traveled together for six months until Beatrice decided to take Arty back to El Paso and out of the outlaw life. Five and a half years later she sent Lyle a letter that said she was dying, begging him to return to El Paso. When he got there, she asked him to take care of their son, knowing that having his father look out for him as an outlaw was better than leaving the six-year-old kid to die on the streets. Lyle asked the woman he’d been talking to if she’d like to join him for a drink.**

**“Sure.” The woman said. They sat down at a table and Lyle asked, “So Milady, what’s your name?”**

**“Evie.” The woman answered.**

**“It’s a pleasure to meet you Evie.” Lyle said. He waved for the server to bring over the drinks. Unexpectedly, the server, with not two but three drinks in hand, came over and sat down.**

**“Why do I feel like I’m being approached for somethin’ unsettling?” Lyle asked, on his guard, hand on his revolver.**

**“Now now.” Evie said, now speaking in a brittish accent. “The gun is unnecessary.”**

**“I feel like I’m about to be shot but ignoring that for a second, I love the accent Evie.” Lyle quipped flirtatiously. He turned serious again and growled. “Now, back to the matter of me being shot, what do you want?”**

**“Relax we’re not going to shoot you.” The man eased, having the same british accent. “My name is Jacob Frye and you’ve already my sister, Evie Frye. We were sent here from London to find your son, Arthur Kenway.”**

**“Kenway...” Lyle muttered. “That was my wife’s maiden name. You’re here for Arty?”**

**“Yes.” Evie answered. “Your son the great-great-great-great grandson of Assassin Edward Kenway.”**

**“Again, how did we miss this?” Jacob asked, dumbfounded.**

**“I don’t know Jacob.” Evie sighed.**

**“We have people in the government and we don’t find out about this kid until 150 years later because the kid’s father is minorly less of an asshole for marrying his mother?” Jacob said.**

**“Jacob I already explained this.” Evie snapped. “The working theory is that according to Assassin Adewale, Edward and Anne Bonny got drunk and had a one night stand before Edward went to London. Anne had a son and didn’t want the kid growing up living a dangerous life so she kept him a secret and erased herself from history. For whatever reason, maybe she wanted him to have something of his father’s I don’t know, left the child as a Kenway. She moved out to El Paso, dropped out of the history books, and kept her son under the radar of the Assassins and the Templars and all her descendants followed suit. But Beatrice Kenway got knocked up by an outlaw, who did not fly under the radar, and that exposed the kid.”**

**“Speakin’ of ‘the outlaw’.” Lyle chimed in. “I wanna know what you want with my kid.”**

**“Oh right. Sorry.” Evie said. “The Templars want to take your son from you. And they may not ask as nicely.”**

**“They’re probably hoping for another 60 years of Haythem.” Jacob chimed in.**

**“Yes.” Evie replied. “We wanted to take him to train as an Assassin so we could protect him from the Templars. He’d be taught how to read and write.**

**“So basically you want to do exactly what these Templars want to do?” Lyle asked. “Indoctrinate my kid into a cult of killers?”**

**“That’s a little blunt if you ask me.” Jacob quipped.**

**“Really? You’re called ‘Assassins’.” Lyle replied.**

**“Yes we’re killers, but how does that make you any better?” Evie asked.**

**“I’m his father.” Lyle replied. “When I was with his mother, I didn’t have no one else. I was with them for the first six months of his life and she told me to leave. Six years later she sent me a letter sayin’ she was dying and when I went to see her she pleaded with me to keep him safe. I been a shitty father but I keep that boy safe best I can. I will protect that kid from those who would harm him until the day I die and that includes you.”**

**“We’d keep him safer than you ever could.” Jacob stated. “You are an outlaw and a killer and one day you’ll get that poor lad killed.” Lyle pulled out his revolver and snarled, “Keep away from my son or I will put a bullet in your head.” Jacob and Evie looked at each other and Evie sighed, “Look Mr. Morgan, that kid will have a better life with the Assassins than you can give him. You can give him that life. Just think about it.” The twins stood up and left Lyle sitting there. He put his gun away and took a drink of his beer. Lyle thought to himself, ** ** _I ain’t much of a father to Arty. Maybe those two are right and this is the only way I can give that kid a good life. I ain’t nothin’ but a shitty, pisspoor excuse of a father and that kid deserves better. He deserves a good life and not the life of runnin’ from the law that I can give him._ ** ** He went up the stairs to the room and saw Arty practicing aiming the revolver.**

**“Hey Pa.” He said. “Since you gave me a gun I was practicin’ aimin’ and quickshots with it. Don’t worry it ain’t loaded. Maybe tomorrow you can teach me how to shoot it.” Lyle looked at the 10-year-old, pretending to shoot at the wall and chuckled. ** ** _Goddammit. I ain’t givin’ this kid up to a cult of killers. I am gonna be a better father to him. I’m gonna be a real father to this kid if it’s the last goddamn thing I do. God as my witness, I will do everything in my power to keep him safe and give him the best life I can._ **

**“What’s goin’ on Pa?” Arty asked. “Is somethin’ wrong or is this just not a good time like it always is? Or am I somehow doin’ somethin’ wrong?”**

**“No kid.” Lyle said. “Look, if you wanna learn how to shoot tomorrow, then we’ll go get some bottles, ride out into the desert, and you can learn to shoot for real. Sound good?”**

**“Sure, I guess.” Arty said, uncertain. He was confused by this sudden change in his father. Lyle had always kept him at arm’s length except for when he was shouting at him for screwing up. There had sometimes been the occasional kindness, a gift or something that could be considered a “father-son bonding experience” but those came around very rarely. But he’d never shown this much kindness to him.**

**“Good.” Lyle said. “We’ll have breakfast, whatever you want, go huntin’ and do whatever else you wanna do tomorrow. After all it is your birthday.” Now Arty was thoroughly confused. His father had never given two shits about his birthday. He gave him a gift like the revolver but had never decided to make the whole day about him.**

**“Pa are you okay?” Arty asked. “You’re actin’ kinda different.”**

**“I’m fine, just seein’ things clearly.” Lyle answered. “I know I ain’t been any kind of father to you Arthur but I swear to God I’m gonna try.” Arty looked at him with disbelief and sadness in his eyes. Lyle sighed, “Look you don’t gotta believe me now, but I’m gonna try. Go to bed now.” Arty put the gun away and lay down in his bed. Lyle looked at the kid and thought, ** ** _If it’s the last thing I do, I’m gonna do somethin’ for you that actually means a damn. God as my witness, I’m gonna make you see how much I care about you kid._ **

**\---**

**Lyle and Arty woke up at around 8:00 in the morning. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping. The pair went into the saloon to order breakfast.**

**“Alright kid, what do you want?” Lyle asked. Arty, still very confused, comes to the conclusion that his father is putting on some kind of act and decides to see how far he’ll take it.**

**“Best sausage you got and two eggs.” Arty said smugly.**

**“Okay.” His father replied. “We’ll take two of those. And can I get some empty bottles? We’re goin’ shootin’ later.”**

**“Of course.” The barkeep answered. “I’ll get your food to you.” The pair sat down at a table. Lyle asked, “Alright kid, what do you wanna do today?” Arty thought about it and said, “After we go shootin’, I want you to get me into a poker game. Then maybe we’ll go to the movies, see a show.” Lyle had been nodding along with his son’s requests. He said, “Alright. Anything else? Maybe tonight I’ll get you a girl.”**

**“I’ll think of somethin’.” Arty replied. Lyle looked around the saloon until he saw two familiar faces, now wearing cloaks with a hood on it and a silver gauntlet.**

**“Excuse me for a moment kid.” Lyle said. “I’ve got some business to attend to.” Arty shot him a cold look, believing this had something to do with selling some stolen goods. Lyle walked over to where the twins were sitting and snarled, “Listen to me very carefully: stop following us or I will kill you both.”**

**“We’re not following you to convince you to give away the kid.” Evie stated. “We found out that the Templars are watching you, waiting to see what you do. We are making sure the Templars don’t try to take Arty by force.”**

**“Fine.” Lyle relented. “But keep away from the kid.” Lyle got back up and returned to Arty just as the food was arriving. He thanked the waiter and sat down.**

**“How were your ‘business dealings’?” Arty asked snidely. “Did you get the price on whatever you tried to sell?” Lyle sighed and thought to himself ** ** _Damnit_ ** **. “No kid. I wasn’t trying to sell anything. Just workin’ somethin’ out with someone.” Throughout the rest of breakfast, neither one of them said a word.**

**\---**

**Lyle and Arty rode out into New Mexico desert, Lyle preparing to teach his son how to shoot. When they got out into the desert, Lyle set up the bottles he got from the barkeep to practice shooting.**

**“Okay. The key to shooting is to have a good, strong stance.” Lyle coached. Lyle got into a stance and said, “Like this.”**

**“Alright.” Arty said. He mimicked what his father did.**

**“Good. Now, take aim.” Lyle said. “Remember to have a good, firm, steady grip. Remember the cattleman’s got a bit of a kick. Don’t anticipate the recoil or fight it. Let the momentum bring you back to your stance.”**

**“Okay.” Arty replied. He aimed the gun, keeping a firm, steady grip.**

**“Good. Now watch me.” Lyle aimed at one of the bottles and fired the gun. The bullet shattered the bottle. “Now you try.” Lyle instructed. “But don’t forget to breathe. Always fire on empty lungs.” Arty took a deep breath and as he exhaled, pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the rock. Arty groaned in frustration.**

**“Hey relax kid.” Lyle eased. “Try again. But don’t snatch at the trigger. Like my daddy used to say, ‘your focus needs more focus’. Focus on the inhale, shoot on the exhale. My daddy also told me to take three deep breaths before shootin’. Maybe try that.” Arty nodded and took aim again. Following his father’s advice, he took three deep breaths and on the third exhale, he fired. The bottle shattered this time.**

**“Good.” Lyle said. “But you're anticipatin’ the recoil and it’s makin’ you shake a little.”**

**“I am not!” Arty insisted.**

**“Alright here, give me the gun for a second.” Lyle said. “I’m gonna put two bullets in and fill the rest with blanks.” Arty handed Lyle the gun and Lyle loaded it. Arty took the gun back and took aim at another bottle.**

**“If there ain’t a bullet and you ain’t shaken, the gun should stay level.” Lyle said. Arty breathed and pulled the trigger. There was a ** ** _click_ ** **, with no gunshot, but Arty was shaking a little.**

**“See.” Lyle said. “Now, keep stable and don’t anticipate the recoil.” Arty took aim again and fired. Once again, no gunshot, but his stabilizers were much better. He fired again and this time, there was a gunshot and the bullet shattered the bottle. Arty pulled the trigger three more times and found that there were no more bullets in the gun, but his stabilizers had drastically improved.**

**“You said there were two bullets.” Arty said.**

**“Yes. To keep you on your toes.” Lyle replied.**

**“What a fine sight, a father teaching his son to shoot.” Arty and Lyle turned around to see two men standing before them.**

**“Arty pack up the bottles.” Lyle ordered. “I need to have a talk with these men.” Arty did as he was told while Lyle lead the men away from him.**

**“I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told the Assassins: fuck off.” Lyle growled.**

**“Your son has the blood of one of the greatest Assassins in history. How could we not try to get our hands on him.” The first man said. “My name is Harry Starrick. I’m a Grand Master of the Templar order. I’ve come to offer you a deal: give your son to us and I will not only grant you your freedom, but $100,000.” Lyle looked Starrick dead in the eye, pulled out his revolver, and shot it into Starrick’s chin, killing him. Lyle grabbed the other Templar and snarled, “You tell your master that I’m not handing my son over to you and if he wants him, he’s gonna have to kill me.” Lyle threw the Templar to the ground and ran over to his horse. He ordered Arty to ride as fast as he could so they could escape.**

**\---**

**As Arty and Lyle rode back into town and dismounted, Arty shouted, “What the hell was that?”**

**“They was...disagreeable men.” Lyle said.**

**“Okay now how about the truth?” Arty demanded.**

**“Damnit Arthur sometimes I don’t tell you everything because it’s to keep you safe.” Lyle sighed. “You’re just gonna have to trust me on this.”**

**“You ain’t never gonna change.” Arty sneered. “You’re always gonna be the same miserable asshole you were since the day Ma died.”**

**“Arthur I’m tryin’ here!” Lyle responded. “I know I’m a shitty excuse for a father but goddamnit I’m tryin’ to do better.”**

**“You know this act you’re puttin’ on, I can see through it’s pretty easy to see through.” Arty shot back. “You’d make me someone else’s problem first chance you got! You never even let me go see Ma’s grave!”**

**“You wanna go down to El Paso and see her grave? Fine!” Lyle yelled. “Let’s go get the train tickets then boy if that’s what you want.” Lyle climbed back onto his horse and and ordered Arty to do the same. They rode over to the train station and bought tickets to El Paso. They both knew it would be a long train ride so the two had better get comfortable.**

**\---**

**Jacob and Evie followed Lyle and Arty onto the train to make stop the Templars when they made their move to grab the kid. Keeping a keen eye and watching for enemies, the twins sat down across from Lyle. The outlaw spotted them and groaned.**

**“Jacob, why don’t you check some of the other cars while I have a conversation with Mr. Morgan?” Evie suggested. Jacob nodded and vacated the seat. He tapped Morgan on the shoulder and gestured for him to talk to Evie. Lyle looked at Arty, who by now had fallen asleep, and quietly scooted next to Evie.**

**“If I have to tell you one more time…” Lyle said in an angry whisper. Evie cut him off, “No. We’re here to protect the child. Templars are going to be far more ruthless than us. Jacob mentioned a Haythem Kenway yesterday. He was Edward’s son, a boy of 10 when the Templars murdered his father. He was taken in by a Templar Grand Master and was raised into the Order. Jacob and I talked about it for a while last night after we met and we realized that if we tried to take Arthur, we’d be no better than those we would oppose. But, as I said, the Templars killed Edward Kenway and took his son. Jacob and I decided we would keep you safe so the same thing didn’t happen to you and Arthur.”**

**“And what, are there Templars on the train?” Lyle asked.**

**“We believe so.” Evie answered. “Jacob is checking the train for them using the Eagle Vision. It’s how Arthur found that man’s gun yesterday, I’m sure of it.”**

**“I was wonderin’ what that was.” Lyle muttered. Meanwhile, Jacob moved into the cargo cars. He was spotted by two guards who he quietly knocked out. He hid next to the exit and activated his Eagle Vision. He saw and heard the Templars in the next car, discussing how they would take out Lyle. They said that once the outlaw was dead, they’d take the kid.**

**“Sorry boys, but it seems there’s been a slight complication with your plan.” Jacob quipped, kukri in hand. He charged the five Templars, slicing at them. He stabbed one in the gut and punched another. He threw a knife into the eye of one, killing him, leaving three left. One of the Templars drop-kicked Jacob in the back and bounced back to his feet. The three Templars retreated to the roof. Jacob fired the grappling hook on his gauntlet into the neck of one of them as he climbed up the latter. Jacob raced into the roof to catch the escaping Templars. Upon reaching the roof, he quickly dodged a poison dart, fired by one of the Templars and shoved his kukri into the neck of one of the Templars before confronting the last.**

**“You must be Cudgel Cormac.” Jacob said, eyeing the air rifle that had been shot at him. “Your grandfather was a traitor.”**

**“My grandfather saw the light, saw how broken the Assassins were!” Cormac shouted. Cormac and Jacob charged each other, engaging in hand to hand combat. Comac pushed his offensive, throwing punches and dodging Jacob’s knife. Jacob slashed at Cormac, flipping the knife and ducking under his punches. Cormac grabbed Jacob’s arm and flipped him onto his back. Jacob rolled into a stand and felt a sharp pang in his shoulder. Cormac held the air rifle, aimed at Jacob. Jacob stumbled a little and began to feel a little woozy. He saw Cormac pass him to head into the car. Jacob grabbed Cormac by the leg and stabbed him with the hidden blade in the gauntlet.**

**“Ahhh!” Cormac screamed as he doubled over. Jacob kicked him in the chest and sent him tumbling off the train and watched as Cormac stumbled in the dust in defeat before slowly passing out.**

**\---**

**Jacob woke up to the sound of the train screeching to a halt. He quickly hopped off the roof and ran to find Evie and Lyle. He found Lyle and Arty getting off the train and approached them.**

**“Lyle Morgan, it’s good to see you!” Jacob said in a fake American accent.**

**“Jacob, a pleasure.” Lyle said, pretending Jacob was an old friend. “Arthur this is an old associate named Jacob Frye. We ran together for a few years after your mother and I split up. Jacob this is my son Arthur Morgan. Arty can you bring the horses over?”**

**“Alright Pa.” Arty grumbled. Once he left earshot, Lyle said in a hushed voice, “Your sister is waiting at the stagecoach. What the hell happened?”**

**“I found the Templars.” Jacob said. “They were being lead by a man named Cudgel Cormac. He’s a master hunter for the Templars. I kicked him off the train but I don’t think he’s dead so I’d watch your back. Don’t worry, we’ll do the same. You’ll know him by an air rifle he’s got on his back. The thing shoots darts that’ll knock you out and darts that make you go crazy before killing you.”**

**“Fine.” Lyle said. Arty lead the horses over and Lyle said to Jacob, “Well it’s good to see you. I’m gonna take the kid to visit his mother’s grave in the morning.” Jacob nodded and went to find Evie.**

**“Jacob where were you?” Evie asked. Jacob told her what had happened and about his conversation with Lyle. “He said he’s taking the kid to visit Beatrice Kenway tomorrow.”**

**“Good.” Evie replied. “That gives us some time to work out our next move.”**

**\---**

**Early the next morning, Lyle and Arty went to the cemetery with flowers. The church was kept very clean and the graves were nicely decorated.**

**“Here we are kid.” Lyle sighed. “Got anything you wanna say?”**

**“No.” Arty said quietly as he put the flowers on the gravestone.**

**“Such a pretty cemetery.” A man said. He had an unmistakable air rifle on his back. Cormac. He was followed by five Templar goons.**

**“Mr. Morgan, on behalf of the United States Government, you are under arrest.”**

**“Kid run!” Lyle shouted. He took his hat and put it on Arty’s head. He pulled out his revolvers and killed the five goons quickly before being shot by Cormac’s air rifle. Arty ran into the bushes, clutching his revolver and praying he wasn’t being followed. He raced into an alley and breathed hard. ** ** _Damnit Pa!_ ** ** Arty thought. ** ** _The Law ain’t gonna wait long before they hang ‘im._ ** ** Arty stayed hidden best he could until nightfall. ** ** _Pa is gonna be hanged soon. He may be a bastard but he’s still my father. Why am I so sentimental that I gotta save a man who’s done nothing but treat me like shit my whole life?_ ** ** Arty made up his mind at the hanging, he would do everything he could to save Lyle from the noose.**

**\---**

**Lyle lay in his cell when Cormac came in for a visit.**

**“What the hell do you want Cormac?” Lyle demanded.**

**“I just wanted to let you know, our deal is still open.” Cormac answered. “Just say the word and freedom, along with $100,000 is yours. All you have to do is hand over Arthur.”**

**“I’m glad you came down here to ask that.” Lyle growled. “Now I get to tell you one more time, to go fuck yourself.”**

**“Honestly Mr. Morgan, I was hoping you’d say that.” Cormac laughed. “Why we would offer money and freedom to crook like you because you happened to have a son with the blood of Edward Kenway is beyond me. The only reason the Templars and the Assassins found out about him is because you were notorious enough for us to look into you.”**

**“You better hope I swing because if I don’t, I’m gonna take that little rifle of yours and put one of those crazy darts in your in your chest. Cause I damn sure wanna see what that does.”**

**“Enjoy your last night in this world Morgan.” Cormac said as he left. “I look forward to watching you swing.”**

**\---**

**Jacob and Evie sat in their hotel room trying to come up with some kind of plan.**

**“We can’t break him out, that would likely get us and Lyle killed as Cormac and likely half the Templars in the country will be guarding him.” Evie said. “And there’s nowhere to quietly get him free without alerting the entirety of the Law.”**

**“And even if we could, and that’s a big IF, he’s not skilled at freerunning and would be shot dead very quickly.” Jacob added.**

**“And that doesn’t even factor getting his son.” Evie stated. **

**“If his father is being hanged he’d likely try to do something stupid and stop it.” Jacob theorized. “If we wait to free him until right when the floor is dropped, one of us can grab Arthur and the other get Lyle.”**

**“No our knives wouldn’t be able to go far enough to cut the rope.” Evie said. “And we’d risk revealing ourselves to the Templars and the people of El Paso and we can’t have that. I don’t think we can do this quietly. We need some kind of distraction to get Lyle and Arthur out safely and alive.”**

**“I have an idea.” Jacob said ominously. “We get a rifle, something with a scope on it, one of us find Arthur and the other wait on the rooftop and when the floor drops, shoot the rope.”**

**“Jacob are you crazy?” Evie accused. “Do you have any idea what’ll happen when a horde of outlaws and lawmen hear a gunshot?! It’ll turn into a massacre!”**

**“What other choice do we have? It’s the only way to get both Lyle and Arthur out.” Jacob said. Evie sighed and relented and they set to work on planning it down to as close as they could, knowing once they fired that gun, no matter how well thought out their plan was, it would go completely out the window.**

**\---**

**The next morning, the twins put their plan into action. Evie took position on a rooftop across from the hanging. Jacob waded through the crowd attempting to find Arty. Outlaws and criminals were everywhere in El Paso. Jacob knew what would happen once Evie fired the gun. He had to find Arty before they dropped the floor. Jacob moved to the middle of the crowd, looking around for the kid when he felt the barrel of a gun on his back.**

**“Move and you’re dead.” Arty snarled.**

**“Relax kid.” Jacob said calmly. “I’m here to save your father. My sister’s across the street on the roof waiting to shoot the rope. We need to be able to get to your father once the riot starts.”**

**“Alright.” Arty replied calmly. The pair moved to the front of the crowd and waited for the chaos to begin. The lawman gave his speech and dropped the floor.** **  
** **BANG**

**The bullet shot the rope, dropping Lyle. Jacob and Arty rushed towards him as outlaws and lawmen started firing their guns, screams echoed through the streets, men and women dropping like flies.**

**“Jacob? The hell are you doin’ here?” Lyle asked.**

**“Saving you.” Jacob replied. He used the hidden blade to cut off the noose and free Lyle’s arms.**

**“Alright. You two, go now.” Jacob said, handing Lyle a revolver. “I’ll see if I can hold off this mob.” Jacob charged into the mess of gunfire and dead people, cutting down law and outlaws with his kukri. Lyle and Arty raced through the gunfire and death in an attempt to find horses to escape.**

**“Pa look!” Arty yelled. “Horses!” The pair raced to them when Lyle was shot in the gut.**

**“You ain’t gettin’ out alive Morgan!” Cormac shouted.**

**“He ain’t joinin’ your order!” Lyle roared.**

**“We weren’t gonna make him one of us!” Cormac laughed. “He’s far too wild for that. We were gonna kill him. But it looks like I got the chance to do it myself!” Lyle shot at Cormac, but missed. Cormac tackled Lyle and stabbed him in the gut with a hidden blade. Lyle groaned in pain and grabbed the air rifle from Cormac’s back and whacked him with it. Cormac rolled to his feet and was shot in the chest. Lyle stood holding the air rifle, smirk on his face. Cormac pulled the dart out and felt his mind beginning to fade and turn feral.**

**“You got me good Morgan.” Cormac chuckled. He let out an animalistic snarl before he was shot in the head. Two men stood before Arty and Lyle.**

**“What the hell was wrong with that guy?” The older man asked.**

**“I shot him with this.” Lyle groaned before falling to the ground. He started coughing up blood and said, “Go kid. Get the hell…outta here.” Lyle’s body went limp, dead.**

**“Son look at me.” The younger man said. “I ain’t gonna hurt you. My name is Dutch Van Der Linde. This is Hosea Matthews. We’re gonna get you outta here just hang on.” Hosea grabbed the two horses nearby and mounted one.**

**“Come on.” Hosea said. Dutch helped Arty onto the horse and mounted his.**

**“Don’t worry son.” Dutch said. “We’ll take you back to camp, get you fed. Annabell and Bessie will be able to take care of you.” On the ride out, Hosea asked, “What’s your name son?” Arty thought about the answer he’d give them and decided on the truth. “Arthur.” He said. “Arthur Morgan.”**


End file.
